Autumn Memories
by Marron Babe
Summary: Oneshot Marron reflects her past and present, including her deceased hubby. Nothing major, but a sweet, simple fic I wrote when I should have been studying...:P


Summary: Marron remembers her life and the husband that she lost only five years prior. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The brisk, dying leaves of autumn sweep past my window, circling into a tiny cyclone of dead foliage then quickly diminishing into nothing but another pile my grandson will have to rake up in the morning. The once lazy, warm breeze of summer has ebbed into an impish zephyr, blowing against every windowpane in the entire house, rattling every loose shingle. 

I tug my warm, emerald sweater closer to my frame as I let out a quiet sigh. Fall has descended upon the outskirts of West City and we were all prepared for it. The trees are almost bare, readying themselves for the bittersweet frost of winter. The atmosphere has readied itself for Halloween, which my grandchildren are all welcoming whole-heartedly. I grin at the memories of my own Halloweens.

Halloween was a time for everyone in West City to celebrate. We had always welcomed it by large parties and huge family get-togethers. I glance at a photo beside my perch in a large rocking chair and grin fondly at the picture. It is of my wedding day, my husband stands tall and proud with a small smile upon his lips. We look absolutely beautiful together and the pure entity of happiness.

It hadn't always been like that, my marriage I mean. Some days we were just disgusted with one another and others we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Unfortunately though, my husband is now deceased. I do not mourn his death anymore though, for it has been nearly five years since his departure from this earth.

I watch as my great grandchildren dance about the leaves, their eyes sparkling with an excitement and happiness my own sapphire eyes once held. They look much like we did too, except their hair colors are all different. My eldest great grandchild, Ryan, is fifteen now. He is a spitting image of his great grandfather with the exception of his green eyes which he got from his mother. 

Ariell, a beauty in her own special way, is my youngest grandson's wife. She has short, curly blonde hair and is quite lovely, even if she is gracing the age of thirty-six. I sigh again, relishing in the memories of remembering the days that I was once thirty-six. I am now, eighty-one.

Yes, I am old. I never pictured myself as being old, wrinkled…decrypted. Hell, I dreaded the thought of aging past thirty. The very image disgusted me. I had nothing against the elderly…they were our past, our link into another time. Yet the very idea of me being that never really beat into my mind. Instead I was sixteen one day, beautiful and flawless and then next day, I was sixty-five years older. 

"Grandma Mar."

I turn around to find the youngest of my children's, children's offspring, Peregrine. Her eyes shimmer a soft indigo that my mother's hold now. She is still as beautiful as the day she turned seventeen. Her luscious blonde locks are now cropped and short, in a more boyish haircut. 

Peregrine's hair is a long, wavy black. She holds her elbow up to me and I see the scrape. I conceal a grin at the "ouchie" and take her hand sympathetically. "Aww now, Grandma Mar will fix it, won't she?" The child nods, her bangs bouncing softly before me. She follows me into the soft golden bathroom with large, watery eyes.

"Grandma Mar?"

I turn to her as I get out the peroxide. "Yes Pere?" She climbs onto the toilet seat slowly, making sure to keep her elbow high in the air. She grabs a small deep blue bottle and sniffs it. "Who's is this?" I grin fondly. "That was your great grandfather's. You never met him, dear. He passed away before you first birthday." She nods, opening the bottle slowly, sniffing it carefully.

The luxurious, husky scent invades my senses and I relish in millions of memories of my dearly departed husband. I have forgotten what a beautiful scent it once was. I open my eyes slowly as I listen to Peregrine set the bottle back in its place.

"That smells funny."

I grin as I dab a bit of the medicine upon a cotton ball. I take her little elbow and gently dab it. Knowing her family heritage, she is unfazed by the twinge of pain that the potent medication brings. The "ouchie" was an excuse to come inside and get a bit of chocolate.

"Do you miss him, Grandma Mar?"

I continue to clean the "wound" and nod. "Sometimes. Yet when you are old, Pere, you learn to remember things, yet not miss them."

I smile softly for I know that I have confused the poor child. "How?"

I sigh, one of a five-year-old's favorite questions. Who, what, when, where, how and why?

"Well do you remember that purple dress your Aunt Burese made for you?"

She nods.

"Well, do you miss it?"

She thinks a moment then shrugs. "Sometimes, at parties. But then I wear my yellow one and it's okay!"

I smile. "Well see, that's how it is with my husband. I remember him often, but I try not to miss him."

She shrugs, giving up as I have fixed her elbow and given her a square of chocolate. "Thanks!" She hops off the toilet and runs off outside to join the others. I put away the medicines and walk back into the living room to resume my post at the main window. My children do not believe that I am capable of watching their grandchildren properly, so they send Ryan and Sylvia over. 

Both are in their early teens and far too old to be visiting grandma. Yet they come without complaint or question. They hug me and Sylvia even kisses me still. She is fourteen, almost fifteen. She is my oldest granddaughter's daughter. I sigh as she whips her golden hair from her eyes. Her eyes are a deep, dark onyx.

I glance to the left as Ryan has just entered. "Hey Grandma Mar. Did you take care of Pere?"

I nod as he plops down on the floral sofa.

"Tomorrow would have been Grandpa Goten's birthday."

I nod, smiling that he remembers. Ryan was almost eleven when Goten passed away. It had crushed him and he even went through two years of therapy. Goten had passed softly in his sleep, lying on the grass as he always did after fishing. I sigh as warmth burns in my belly at the memories.

"How old would he have been?"

I sigh, calculating quickly in my mind. A trait my mother thankfully passed on to me.

"Almost eighty-four."

Ryan lets out a low whistle, clasping his slender fingers together. He does not fight as his great great grandfather would have wished, yet we lost Goku about two years ago. His big heart couldn't handle so much loss, the death of Gohan first. He was in a car accident and died in the ambulance, he was fifty-two.

Next was Chi Chi. She was nearing eighty when Gohan died and eventually that heart of hers went away after only six months of battling a heart illness. Goku cried as he did not at Gohan's funeral. We all had to break down when he did…all of us accept Vegeta of course.

Two years later Bulma died. It crushed many of us. Vegeta scared us all, and a few times we thought he was going to starve himself to death because he didn't care anymore. Yet that was when his first grandson was born, a baby with a raven black tail and unruly onyx hair. Vegeta is still alive and most likely will be for several more years.

Goku didn't cry at Bulma's funeral either, nor my father's.

My father, Krillin, died of natural causes only two months after Bulma. My mother awoke one morning and found him lying there, smiling softly as he always did in sleep, on his side. She of course is still alive, most likely sparring with Vegeta somewhere as we speak.

Pan's death surprised us all. She was flying around the earth as she usually did once a week and had a heart attack in midair. Goku did cry at her funeral as well. I did too, honestly I sobbed. Had Goten not been there I may have collapsed. I fight back tears, remembering one of my best friends. 

Then everyone just began to pick off, one by one. Next Yamcha, Tien, Trunks, Yajirobe, Bura, and then my sweet, sweet Goten. 

"Do you miss him?"

I nod to the boy slowly. "Yes."

"Me too."

And then he rose and left. Without a word or hug goodbye, he simply left. I sighed a bit as I lifted the receiver and dialed my granddaughter's number. "Ariell? Hi dear. No, they're fine. Yes, just wondering about Ryan. No he's just fine. I think maybe he could stay with me tonight? Well tomorrow would have been his eighty-fourth birthday. Oh I'm fine, I always am. Okay. Alright dear. Uh huh. Alrighty. Buh bye."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ryan went home, I decided against my own query. He needed his parents right now, not some old lady. The others have gone home as well. He would have stayed in the room our baby, Gohan, used to sleep. Gohan (ours) is now in Hawaii with his wife, Jenesa. She's a beautiful girl, well woman now for she is nearly sixty. He still lives there with his sons, Krillin and Miguel. Only Miguel resembles us and that is only by his dark hair and blue eyes.

Night is the hardest time of day. It is when I miss him the most. I pat the space beside me fondly, knowing that he will never collapse on the bed as he used to, grinning that fathomable grin that made me smile back every time. Those beautiful crow black eyes that made me desire him with any glance.

I also know that I will never know his touch again, never know what his skin feels like, pressed against mine. I closed my eyes and suddenly feel very, very tired. My body relaxes slowly as it always has and I soon drift off into sleep…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I am dreaming, I know it. 

How do I know? I am young again. My body is flawless as it was when I was twenty, the year I married Goten. My hair is back to its original, long length and I relish in the feel of the wind blowing it about my shoulders, tickling my bare arms. I look around and the surroundings are beautiful. I don't know why I'm here, but I feel completely safe.

I walk through the meadow in which I'm standing. Flowers bow down as the weight of my footsteps bend their unbreakable stems. The sun is gleaming unnaturally bright in this meadow. The sky almost appears a shade of golden rod because of the beauty of this glaring sun.

Yet I feel no heat, I feel comfortable, almost too good. 

I begin to panic and run, and I run and run and run and run for eternity and only more meadows meet me, hills rising and falling beneath my sandals. I stop but am not out of breath at the least. In fact, I feel as if I'm in the best shape I've ever been in. I decide that I shall rest a moment and enjoy this beautiful day.

Lying down, my eyes drift closed. Thoughts swirl through my mind and I am still the old, wise Marron that I am now. I still feel eighty-one in my mind, yet my body feels free and the only way to lift the weight off my heart is to find Goten, yet that would make this dream far too wonderful.

Then I hear it…music, soft yet it is there.

I sit up abruptly and run to the source and it grows louder and louder, yet I cannot find it anywhere. It has no words, yet a simple, lulling cadence that could make even Cell weep under its spell.

"Marron!"

I know that voice.

"Where ya going?"

Yes, most definitely. 

"Hey girl!"

Goten.

I swirl around and there he is, in all his beauty. Dark hair rebellious as ever, muscles twitching in excitement and those eyes that bring me to my knees. 

"Goten?!"

What a wonderful dream.

"Yeah! C'mere and give me a kiss, sweetie!"

I run and I run faster than my legs have ever carried me. I reach him sooner than I anticipate and I kiss him so hard. I almost think our teeth clashed a few times. As I back away, I can't help but kiss those feather soft lips again, clinging to that hair that I remember so easily.

"Bout time you got here."

I frown as he laces his fingers with mine, leading me away from the pleasing tune. We dip down into a small valley between four hills and he decides to sit. I sit beside him and he rests his head in my lap, grinning up at me as he always has.

"What do you mean, Goten?"

He grins even broader.

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

I'm getting impatient.

"You're dead, Marron."

My stomach drops and my every muscle clenches in disbelief. I figure that I must have gone pale, for Goten is softly stroking my cheek, trying to comfort me.  

"How? How can this happen? I…I didn't feel it…I'm dreaming."

He shakes his head slowly, dropping his hand and sitting up to hold me tightly.

"You passed in your sleep as I did. You felt nothing, as I wanted it."

I look at him again in puzzlement. "As you wanted it?"

He nods once again, turning me so I lay in his lap this time. He plays at the seam on my pink dress softly before replying.

"I begged King Yemma…in fact I bribed him, telling him that my great grandson would save the earth in ten years."

My frown remains.

"Ryan?"

He nods proudly, looking off into the breeze wistfully. I see the pain strike across his face, yet as I stroke his lithe skin he replaces the look with a smile.

"You were planned to have an accident and fall in the tub when dressing Pere's 'ouchie'. She was supposed to drop my cologne on the ground. She'd tap you on the shoulder and tell you. You'd jump because you were too busy 'remembering' as Yemma put it, and she'd scare you a bit. You'd jump and trip on the bag of cotton balls, hit your head on the wall of the shower, knocking you out slightly, then slide down the wall, bash your head again on the water nozzles and die."

I gulp a bit, thankful that my baby got me a sweeter, easier death.

"Thank you."

He shrugs before kissing my cheek. "Ryan will start training in two weeks. An 'inspiration' will strike him." I notice the gleam of amusement in his eyes and rise an eyebrow. "Goten?"

He looks away as he did when he'd lie to me about Christmas presents and new pets.

"What 'inspiration'?"

He lets out a sigh. 

"Trunks has a great granddaughter named Cathi right?"

I nod.

"Well, she'll make a comment in a week about fighting, how it excites her and she wishes that she knew how to contact your mother. Ryan will start taking private lessons from Juuhachigou and thus it will begin."

I smile playfully, stroking his chin affectionately. "Aren't we clever?"

He shrugs, though I can tell he is thoroughly amused by his little achievement in fate. He looks off to the west and sighs. 

"Vegeta's time is almost up, maybe a month or two, at the most."

I gasp. "Vegeta? A month? How?"

Goten shrugs. "Who knows. Yemma can't tell me anymore or he'll get in big trouble."

I nod slowly then I daringly ask.

"What about my mom?"

"Three years, July 2nd at 4:12 am. She'll have a nightmare and she'll awake here."

I swallow again and he nips my nose softly. "Yet don't worry. She'll be fine."

I nuzzle his throat softly, the scent of his favorite cologne and soap thick to my senses. "I love you, Goten."

He pushes me onto my back, running a calloused hand up my thigh slowly, pushing the cherry colored dress above my hip. "I love you, Marron…and I've missed you too." I grin, kissing him passionately before breathing against his neck. "And I you, Goten."

Then the memories of his skin pressed against mine return to me…rather quickly…actually VERY quickly…

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A/N: Why did I write this you ask? Hmm, can't really tell you. It just pounded into my head one night while updating one of my other stories and BOOM, here it is. Well, I hope you liked it. Let me know. :P


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